Harry Potter and the Unseelie Princes
by 252020
Summary: 300 years after Voldemort's demise Harry walks though the Veil seeking his own death, only to find himself in the Hall of All Days. Travelling from world to world Harry ends up meeting Christian MacKeltar, drawing the attention of the Unseelie princes, and curiosity of the King.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer: All Harry Potter related characters and stuff belongs to JK Rowling, and all the Fever related stuff belong to Karen Marie Moning. And to be honest I take most of the story from Fever since that is the world this story is played out in, especially in Chapter one. If you like all the non-Harry related conversation and the description of the prison know that it is all Moning and go and read or reread the books!**_

Even devoid of those once incarcerated, despair clung to every ridge, blown down from mountainous cliffs, and seeped up from bottomless chasms. There was no sky. Cliffs of black ice stretched up farther than the eye could follow. A blue glow emanated from the cliffs—the only light in the place. The moon never rose, the sun never set. Seasons did not pass, and colour never splashed this landscape. There was only white, black, and bluish fog as far as the eyes could see.

When they first had landed in this world they had thought they were fated to become living ice sculptures. It was only the knowledge that they could not die from the cold that had saved them from fearing for their lives. Harry because he was who he was, and Christian because only two things in existence could kill him; a very special sword, and a spar of the same origin. But when they arrived Christian could still feel the cold, he couldn't anymore. Ever since Christian had been fed fae flesh, before he and Harry had even met, he had begun transforming into something not human. Not that the transformation was unpleasant to watch. Christian had been handsome when they had first met. Now he was more beautiful than handsome, his hair had gone as dark as Harry's own. His skin was pale as ivory, his build had gotten slimmer, and on occasion his eyes turned black. According to Christian himself he was turning into an unseelie and the unseelie did not feel the cold, and as the transformation continued he had stopped feeling it as well. But Harry could, and no matter how many or how powerful charms he cast they would wear of in minutes leaving him even colder than before. It was better to brave the cold, and cold it was. With each breath ice coated the insides of their noses, their mouths and tongues and teeth, all the way down to their lungs, as all the parts of their bodies they needed to process air were sheathed in an impenetrable layer. And after the first initial breaths it had not taken Christian long to identify their surroundings, there was only one place in existence like this according to Christian, the Unseelie prison.

For hundreds of thousands of years, the Unseelie, the dark fae, had abided in these chilling, sunless, cliffs, and their need, their emptiness, had stained the very rocks from which their prison was fashioned. Or so Christian had told him. Harry himself knew little of the fae, they did not come to his world, not even the witches or wizard knew of them or believed in their existence. They were mere muggle fairy tales inspired by brief glimpses into the magical world that hid behind false ruins, dead forests, and dangerous seas and currents that his own kind put up as shields. Yet after leaving his own world behind Harry too had begun to believe the old stories as he was presented with more tales form different worlds, all with the fae as the common dominator. Some times they were fair and just, some times ugly and monstrous, and some times they were not unlike Harry's own kind, only more long-lived and harder to kill; magical.

For nearly three months Harry and Christian had been stuck in this realm, or so they thought. Time passed differently in this world, there was no sun or moon to show the passage of time, there was only the cold, and unattainable desire that could be found here. At least they had each other for company. It was better than being alone, most of the time.

Ten years after Harry had abandoned his own world, walking through the Veil in the Ministry he had met Christian. Not that things had not turned out as expected when he had made the decision to walk through the veil. Instead of finding death he had been greeted by walls and floors of the purest gold, in fact there had been gold anywhere he looked —gold that stretched up as far as he could see. Though if there had been a ceiling it had been beyond his vision. Instead there was soaring, towering golden walls to nowhere. And he had been alone. There had been no Ginny, no James, none of his children, none of his grand children, and no Sirius. Not even death had been there to greet him. At first, when memories from his life had begun playing in his mind as clear as if he had been inside a pensive, he had thought that perhaps he was in heaven or hell. But it had felt wrong, too much like when he had been staring into the mirror of erased as a child and when he had risen to touch one of the mirrors that hung on the golden walls he had been pushed though and found himself in a new world. One where the sky was green, and the grass black, where trees spoke, and humans were non-existent. Thankfully, having felt the magic as he had gone though the mirror, it had not been difficult to locate similar rifts to other worlds as he passed though world after world, and then one day he had run into Christan MacKeltar, and given more answers than he had been able to find in all his years jumping from one world to another combined regarding the rifts and the strange worlds he found each time he stepped though one.

Christian came from a world not too different from Harry's own, at least as far as the muggle part of Harry's world was concerned. And like his world there had been a magical one hidden deep inside the other, only it was different from his. There was fae that came to visit, both beautiful and cruel. Playing with mortals as a child would dolls, for that was all they were to them. Breakable dolls. But there were also humans with magical abilities, Christian himself was born into a family of druids with magical abilities and knowledge passed down through the ages. There were also special humans with the ability to see the fae even when they hid behind their glamours that made them appear human or invisible. There were those who could freeze the fae, run faster than the eye could see, and those who once had been fae or magical but had their magic taken. However there were no wand waving wizards, not in real life at least. But it was closer to Harry's own world than any he had visited so far, and curiosity had made him decide to join Christian in his endeavors to get back to it. And that was how, two years after their initial meeting, Harry had ended up in the unseelie prison, spending months trying to find a rift through which they could escape, while Christian had taken it upon guarding the stone coffin of the Fae Queen, sure that someone would come for her sooner or later.

**Chapter ONE**

The sound was higher than anything either he or Christian could produce and it made Harry take off running towards the source. And when he reached it he was faced with an unfamiliar blonde woman, staring down at the Fae Queen in her now open coffin. Not sure who the woman was or how she had been able to open the coffin Christian had spent weeks trying to open within minutes, or perhaps it had been days? Harry suspected a few days had passed since he was last with the Druid. Only chance had allowed him to be close enough to hear the cry. He briefly wondered if Christian would tell the woman to wait for Harry's return before they left, assuming the woman knew a way out, or if he would simply leave Harry to his own devices and hope he finds his own way out. The moment the thought passed though his mind Christian's head turns towards him and his eyes locks with Harry's, cutting of his thoughts. A second later they heard the rumble of snow coming from behind Harry, and the only thing Harry could read in Christian face when he looked back at Harry was one word. Shit. Harry all but jumped down from his ice peak to join the other three.

Not even a second later ice cracked and rumbled high above them, showering crystals across the dais. They ran, Harry, the girl, and Christian, carrying the fae queen in his arms. Soon they are slipping and sliding down a frozen ridge and running along route unfamiliar to both Harry and Christian, heading for the narrow fissure between cliffs. It was going to be a close race and a tight squeeze with Christian's shoulders and with an avalanche chasing them.

Harry bounced between the walls of the cliffs like a Ping-Pong ball. Twice the girl lost her footing and went down. Christian went flying over the top of Harry but somehow managed to hang on to the frail queen. The avalanche chased them, growling like dark thunder, crashing from ravine to canyon, spraying the deep fissure with snow. Then finally they cleared the claustrophobic path through the cliffs, slid down a steep hill, then raced across the canyon for a towering fortress of black ice that both Harry and Christian somehow had missed during their time in this cold strange place.

"The Unseelie King's castle!" Christian marveled spinning around, apparently recognizing it, as they dashed through its towering doors. But Harry didn't care. He just went though them, ignoring Christian's awe. Usually he found his tales of the fae interesting, but this time Harry only wanted to get inside and away from the cold, and the incoming snow. A cold that Christian claimed was imagined, and if he didn't think about it would stop affecting him so, which was easy to say when one could not feel it. For no matter how many times he tried to listen to the advice it had never helped. Perhaps the fortress would finally allow him some warmth. If only because he expected that it would.

"What now?" Christian fascinated gaze kept sliding between the frail woman in his arms and the interior of the dark fortress, but it was obvious he spoke to the blonde human.

"Now we head for the Silver in the king's boudoir," She replied said.

"Why? I can't go through and neither can she. Nor Harry."

"I can. And I can get help and bring them back to the mirror to talk to you. We'll make plans to get you out, figure out how and where to meet." He cocked his head and studied her a moment.

"There's a thing you should know, lass. My truth sensor works just fine here in the Unseelie prison." He said, making Harry assume she had told a lie.

"So?"

"What you just said wasn't truth."

"I'm going to go through the mirror. Truth?" She said impatiently. He nodded. "And I'm going to get help and bring them back for you. Truth?" He nodded again. "Then what the hell is the problem?" Harry noted that she didn't look angry, she looked unnerved, and he wondered if Christian's new look was responsible, it seemed like they knew each other before his change, or the Queen.

Christian eyes narrowed. They were full black again. "Tell me you plan to save us," he ordered.

"I plan to save you," She said, and Harry didn't need a truth detector to hear the ring of sincerity in her voice. "And I will do it as quickly as possible. It will be my priority to get you out of here."

"Truth."

"Then what's the problem?"

"I don't know. Something." He shifted the queen in his arms. "Tell me again why you screamed," he fished.

"I was frightened."

"Truth. Why?"

"Oh, for heaven's sake, Christian, I told you already! Are we going to stand here all day while you interrogate me, or are we going to get out of here?" Beyond the fortress, the avalanche crashed and roared. "She wasn't what I expected, okay? Even though you told me it was her in the coffin, I expected it to be the Unseelie King."

"If you're somehow lying to me …" he warned. Harry cut in, tired of being ignored.

"Hi, I am Harry Potter. And you are?" He said, and for the first time she seemed to really notice him. Almost as if he had been invisible until the moment he spoke. No matter how many years it had been since he left his own world he wondered if he ever would get used to introducing himself and not have people glancing up at his scar or marvel at his apparent youth.

"Mac, Mackayla Lane." She introduced.

"And how exactly did you find us? Not that I am not grateful to get out of there. It's bloody freezing. And this place is a great improvement to months of staring at snow and rocks."

"The Queen." She said, still looking at him with an unreadable expression. "What are you?" She finally asked.

"Why do you ask?"

"Christian said you had been there for months. You should be dead. At first I assumed you were a fae of some kind, but you are not."

"I'm a wizard." He said, showing her his wand for good measure.

"Wizard?" She echoed disbelievingly. And just as Harry was about to reply Christian spoke, his eyes on the Queen.

"We have to get her out of here. She is dying."

Despite his words, Christian dallied when Mac began to lead them away from the room. There was no other word for it. He was fascinated by the Unseelie King's fortress, and his Keltar druid duties as Fae lore keeper had been bred into him since birth, despite any misgivings he might have about what was happening to him. He took detailed mental notes on everything he saw, to pass on later to his clan now that it seemed as if he would be seeing them soon again.

"You two can look around when I'm gone," Mac said irritably.

"We'll need to stay close to the Silver to know when you return." Christian disagreed, but his pace quickened.

When they reached their goal Christian moved to place the Queen on the bed close to the a large silvery curtain that seemed to cut the room in two.

"What is that?" Harry asked. It felt like one of the rift, but it felt different. Wrong.

"It's one of the silvers." Christian said. "Forgot you only used rifts..."

"I went though one silver. It's not like the one in the golden hall." Harry reputed. "It's… I can see though it."

"Most you can." He said. "But this one is special… there is a legend about it that is famous on every world I visited. There are only two who can pass through the king's Silver. The King, and his concubine. It kills everyone else who tries. It was even used for fae executions at one time…"

Upon hearing this Harry almost walked though it, hoping it would kill him too. He had thought he was over his self-destructive bender but apparently not, he still missed his family as much has he had when he had first entered this strange labyrinth of worlds hoping to re-join them in death.

It seemed like Christian noticed his temptation because his hand clasped Harry's arm. "No." He said, and Harry looked at him with such a sad, heart-broken, expression on his face that Christian looked away, though he didn't release him. Mac watched them with interest, but didn't say anything. Then using their distraction to her advantage she dove for the Queen and was through the mirror before either Harry or Christian noticed. But when Christian did he roared, storming toward the mirror as if intending to follow.

"Don't touch it!" She cried, with less than inches between Christian and the silver. "It will kill you!"

He froze, peering through it, straight at her. "Why didn't it kill her? I'll know the truth," he warned.

Mac adjusted the Queen in her arms, scooped up a mass of her hair, and draped it over her shoulder so it didn't trail the floor and stared back through the mirror at him. "Because she's the concubine. That's why I really screamed. I recognized her."

"But I thought you were the conc—" He gave her a fast once-over. "But you went through the—But that would mean—Mac?" She shrugged. "How do you know she's the concubine?" he demanded.

"The memory residue of the king and the concubine walks these halls. It's hard not to get lost in them. But I imagine you won't have quite as hard a time as I had, seeing how you aren't quite so … personally involved," She said bitterly. "I have no doubt you'll see her while I'm gone. Especially in there." She took a deep breath. "I'll be back as soon as I can. Both of you." And with that she was gone.

**TBC…**

Ok, so this is sort of a test posting. I am not sure if people would be interested in a Harry Potter/Fever crossover so please let me know your thoughts on the chapter and recommend some twists. At the moment I am considering a Harry/Christian (probably only a brief fling) and Harry/Cruce paring for this story. And I know a lot of the Questions about Harry's life after the books and how he ended up where he is is unanswered, don't worry. I will get to that in later chapters.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter TWO**

It wasn't until Mac had disappeared from view that Harry took the opportunity to really take in his new surroundings. The room was dark, the size of a Quidditch pitch with walls of black ice. But that was where the ice ended, underneath his feet was a swirl of black petals from some otherworldly rose garden that seemed to make up the floor, and above his head was a night sky unlike any he seen. The room was otherworldly, and as grand as any he had ever seen. But furniture was spares, only one piece could be found.

That piece was draped with black curtains that fluttered around piles of silky black furs and filled up a third of the chamber, and somehow the sight of Christian sitting on it, watching him rather than the room made him look away.

"Do you want to explore?" Harry offered, looking at the entrance they had come through. But Christian made no response, and when Harry glanced back at him he seemed quite content with ignoring him. Instead staring the door Mac had disappeared through on the other side of the silver.

An hour later Harry made another attempt at conversation. Ever since Mac had left all he had wanted was to sex, and even having grown up in a dorm with four other boys did not exactly make him comfortable jacking-off with Christian in the room. He needed a distraction. "Who is she anyway? Mac, I mean." This time he got a response.

"She was the one who fed my unseelie. She had me…this…"

"From what you told me she was trying to save you." Christian gave a bitter laugh, empty of joy, in response.

"Yeah, right." He said, though he didn't seem as though it was enough anymore. He blamed her, at least to some extent, for what happened. When he had first told Harry the story, almost a year earlier, there had been no blame. Not really, he had even defended her actions, saying she was only trying to help. Seemed as if time had changed his perception of the event, as time so often did. He didn't say anything to remind him.

"I doubt she will come back any time soon... you said time works differently in here." He said instead. "You seemed interested in the runes on our way in, I recognized some of them. Maybe we can figure some things out if we go and have another look."

"In every single myth and story of this place, there are two common elements. One; the King's silver. Two; it is always changing. If we leave there might be years before we can find our way back. Mac has a connection to this place, that is why it obeys her. Us… it didn't even show itself to us. We are not leaving this room until someone comes for us."

"We can't stay here, Christian. We have only been here a little more than an hour and it is already affecting us somehow." He said, making Christian look at him for the first since he suggested an exploration of the mansion. His eyes were as glazed as he took him in, his eyes lingering on his body before he looked away again. Seemed whatever charm that had been placed on the bedchamber was affecting him too. Briefly he wondered of the King had needed a spell equivalent of that muggle erecting drug… it certainly felt like it.

"It is only the room, it's the same as the prison. Don't desire, it will only make things worse. Don't want."

"It's not the same." Harry disagreed. Even if he thought about the cold he didn't start freezing, he didn't get cold. There were some charms on the room, but they weren't the same. Besides, there was no reason anyone would place such wards or charms on a bedroom. Whatever the charm was it had something to do with sex or lust.

The days that followed were slow and almost painful. Even in the prison Christian had been less irritable than he was in this bedchamber. He never talked, never looked at him, and only snapped at him when he considered him too close or too loud. This had initially infuriated Harry, but as the days progressed he began to find himself in a similar mood. His body was hot and tense, and on more than a few occasions he had found himself tracing Christian's body with his eyes, wondering what his skin felt like, how he tasted. Where those black swirling tattoos were hiding as they spun and churned around his skin. And every time those thought passed his mind Christian would stiffen as if he knew what he was thinking. Which in turn made Harry blush, yet he could not control his thoughts and more often than not they seemed to return to just the place he did not want to go.

In all his years he had never before considered bedding a man, Ginny had been his one love. Naturally there had been other women since, but they were all temporary. And there most certainly had been no men. Yet he could not remember ever desiring anyone as much as he did Christian. He needed him to touch him, and to be touched in return. On this bed, in this room, in this very minute. Unable to stop himself he reached for the other man only to have him swirl around to look at him. And what a look he gave, it was pure desire, need, and pain. It made Harry snatch his hand back, but it was too late. With inhuman speed he was on him, Harry could feel his erection hard against his stomach, and he had no doubt Christian could feel the same. That did not help matter, they needed to stop, but it seemed impossible to do so. His body refused to do anything but respond to Christian's touch. It wanted him more than to obey his will, and before he knew it any thoughts of refusal or resistance left his mind as his own hands and mouth moved to explore the creature currently overwhelming his senses.

When Harry's sanities returned to him, his cloths were thrown around the room, as were Christians own, and while he remembered his many releases before sleep had claimed him, it seemed his body had not. In fact he was just as hard as he had been before his last release, and the sight of Christian's nude body and visual arousal did not help matter. It didn't matter that he appeared to be sleeping, his tattoos moving up his legs, his groin, and his abdomen then around the side of his chest, before vanishing again seemed to be teasing him, daring him to touch. Only Christian's whimper as he came close stilled his hand, and made his eyes fly up to meet Christian's. He was in pain, he was not just hard, but painfully so.

"Please."

It was all it took and Harry did not know how many times they had given in, or how many days had passed when he was stirred from his sleep by voices, one familiar and two unknown. Where they finally about to be released?

Without thinking Harry slid of the bed, the thought of cloths, or rather his lack there of, never crossed his mind. As a result his new visitors got a perfect view of his slender form, and rock hard erection. A state he had gotten so used to that he almost could forget about it now.

"You are back." He said as his eyes landed on Mac, her eyes however seemed to be focused further north on his person.

"Who the bloody hell is he?!" An unknown, but unmistakably male voice demanded, making Harry's eyes move away from the tiny blonde and to the male shape standing a few feet behind her. He looked to be about thirty, six foot two or three, he had dark hair, golden skin, and dark eyes. He wore an elegant, dark grey Italian suit, a crisp white shirt, and a muted patterned tie. Yet, despite his cloths, there was an omnipresent carnality about him, in his dark eyes, that made Harry curious. He had only seen something that even resembled that in werewolves. Maybe those were something they had in Christian's world too. He really should start asking questions and prepare himself better. But somewhere during Harry's musing Christian must have woken up because when Harry's mind refocused it was not this man, but Christian's back that took up Harry's view. He sighed.

"As tempting as your back admitting can be, I don't need your protection. Move." And Christian did, without a word. Though Harry was surprised to find an odd mix of submission and resentment in his eyes as he did so. At the same time Harry heard Mac answer the man's question. Introducing both Harry himself and Christian.

"That's not Christian MacKeltar!" the man exploded. "That's Unseelie royalty!"

"Ah, fuck me." Christian ran his hands through his long, dark hair, muscles rippling in his shoulders. "Is that really what I look like, Mac?"

She didn't get a chance to answer before the third person, hidden behind a dark cloak, pushed her through the silver, and straight into Christian, knocking them back on to the bed.

From the other side of the silver Harry could hear the strange man roar, more than that Harry couldn't take in before yet another surprising desire overtook him. He wanted Christian and Mac both, he wanted… he shook his head and drew on what control he had left just in time to hear her warn Christian about the room, and its influence on their libido.

"I know, lass. Been here awhile." He raised one of his arms that was pinning her to the bed. "Get out from under me. Move your ass!" he gritted. When she didn't react instantly, he snarled, "Now! I won't be able to say it again!"

She shot out from beneath him and scrambled from the bed. He crouched there a moment on his hands and knees, balls heavy, erection huge and flat to his stomach, then he lunged to his feet, trying to cover himself, his hand a hopelessly inadequate shield. He tried to yank a sheet from the bed, but the black silk was king-sized, for acres of bed. Cursing, he began digging among pillows and furs, looking for his clothes, while Mac's eyes remained glued to him.

"Mac!" the other man thundered, succeeding in breaking her thrall. If only it was as easy for Harry. As if reading his thoughts Christian's eyes found him, and as if forgetting completely about Mac and their visitors they took each other in, desire burning in their eyes.

Harry is the first to break the stare, just as the robed figure throws itself against the mirror and falls down dead the instant it made contact. An act that made the man look at Mac in anger before mockingly speaking three simple words so full of anger that Harry blinks.

"Hello, Ms Concubine."

But it wasn't the words that mattered to Harry, but rather Christian's reaction to them and the unadulterated hatred in Christian's voice as he hissed a name Harry knows all too well.

"Barrons." It was the name of the man responsible for Christian's unplanned and unintentional trip into an unknown world and that had begun the mess he found himself in. He had been the one who had preformed some kind of druid ritual with Christian on Halloween to stop the barrier between his world and the fae's from falling. They had failed, and while Christian had not seen the result with his own eyes yet, he had assured Harry it would be bad, equal to an alien invasion in his words. And as if that was not enough, it was because of this ritual the unseelie flesh Mac had given him had made him begin his transformation. In short, more than Mac, this was the man he blamed for everything.

"Prince." Barrons said in return, taking him in from top to toe with an almost scientific interest. He then looks at Harry, seeming even more intrigued. Harry haft expects him to ask who or what he is. He does neither, instead he informs Mac they need to go back. A statement followed by Mac's insurances that she would get them free soon before she walked through the silver once more and headed out of the room with Barrons by her side.

What happened next surprised Harry more than Mac's sudden reappearance had. Christian was all but growling at him, his eyes full black. But instead of reading desire in them, it is fury and fear that is reflected in their depths.

"What are you? I literally have a voice in my head telling me to do things, to take what I want. At first thought it was the spell in this room, it is only ever happy when I am close to you. But it is more than that, it wants to please you. I had no choice but to move when you told me to. My body acted before I could. Why would an unseelie royal want to please you, Harry? Why would it do what you say?"

"I-" Harry began, shocked. The charm had certainly not have that affect on him. "I don't know."

"You said you watched your children and grandchildren grow old and die, yet you do not appear to be more than a teenager. Why did they age die and not you? You haven't changed in the years I have known you. Physically you are as timeless as a fae. Why?"

"I-" He began again, unsure what to say. "When I was 18 I married by best mate's sister, we had three children together. Back then I didn't know how different I was. It wasn't until my wife turned 30 and I still looked the same as when I left school that I really started to wonder. You might find that strange, but depending on how powerful the wizard or witch is we age differently. At first it wasn't a problem, it was even expected. But it wasn't that I aged slowly, it was that I didn't age at all. It caused problems. My wife desperately tried to stay young, grew jealous of younger women, vindictive even. She was driving herself mad…. In the end her brothers asked me to leave her before she… I did. With time she moved on, our children grew old, so did our grandchildren. They all died, and I still looked 17. I tried to kill myself after I watched my youngest grandchild being buried surrounded by her own children and grandchildren. It was not right, no person should have to bury his own children, let along grandchildren. I tried magical means, mug- non-magical, runes, cursed objects. I should have been dead many times over, but death wouldn't have me. She won't take her master, that is what my friends and children tell me anyway."

"I though you said they were-"

"They are." Harry cut him off. "But I have a magical object that is rumoured to have belonged to death herself. It allows me to summon the souls of the dead. I can talk to them, but never touch them. That is one of the objects I think made me the way I am. There is an old fairy tale in my world of three brothers. Each brother was given a gift by death, and if ever one person possesses all three he or she becomes the master of Death. I once had all three of them, and that is why I can't die. Or that is the only reason I can think of anyway."

"You are the Master of Death? What does that mean?"

"I don't know."

**TBC…**

So, there, a few more hints where this story is going if I decide to continue. Not just background/introduction. What do you think?


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter THREE**

What followed Harry's confession was a long and very, very, very strained silence that lasted hours, until they literally had no choice but to touch. But it wasn't until both laid out of breath on the bed that they actually spoke again.

"I'm sorry." Harry whispered, taking Christian by surprise and making him whirl to look at him.

"You weren't that bad." Christian said with an amused glimmer in his eyes. "In fact-"

"That's not what I meant." Harry all but groaned. "I mean, all of this. I don't have a voice telling me to do things, just extreme… lust, I guess. That only means that I am doing this to you somehow."

"Not your fault." The druid dismissed tiredly, the amusement gone. "Who knows, maybe I am turning into the second unseelie Death prince."

"Second death prince?" Harry repeated confused.

"According to legend there are four unseelie princes, also known as the four horsemen of the apocalypse; War, Conquest, Famine, and Death. If the eaters of unseelie flesh, though Mac said the others aren't experiencing this little side effect, are becoming unseelie princes, maybe they are being divided into four different casts, after the first four."

"You really have to explain your world and all these seelie and unseelie things better to me." Harry said, confused.

"I think that might be for the best, especially if you are leaving with me. The normal human world seems pretty much the same as yours, as you know, but then the fae decided to get into the mix. I guess some humans are more inclined than others to learn the druid art, which according to legend was taught to use by the fae, but none of us loose our tempers and accidently make our aunt float on air, or anything like that. It is all learned."

"You can literally hear when people lie, you were born with that talent." Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but who knows how past generations of MacKeltars have done to our bloodline? We have some prime examples of my ancestors walking around back in Scottland. Both uncle Cian or uncle Dageus were deeply involved in the dark druid arts, and both are hundreds of years old. Not to mention that the seelie Queen took to personally meddle in our family line. I am hardly a good example of a normal human or a normal druid for that matter. Now, may I continue?"

"Sorry." Harry apologised and Christian looked thoughtful, then annoyed, then defeated.

"Oh, hell. I don't know what to tell you. What do you want to know? You will have to break it down."

"What is the difference between the seelie and unseelie. And between seelie and seelie? Unseelie and unseelie?"

"The seelie are… well no fae is good. But they don't revel in destruction. They were born from the song of making, while the unseelie were sung into existence by the song of unmaking. The seelie are a matriarchal race, the unseelie have a king. Also, the seelie were the first."

"So how does this make them different?"

"Since the unseelie were made by unmaking and not making they are incomplete, and things they need or lack they steal from others. Some lack beauty, so they steal it from mortals. Another may lack a face or a voice so they steal it. The seelie consider themselves perfection, so they just play with mortals. Interfere in love, in wars, in anything really. And if they see someone they want they just take him or her, like you might play with rocks on a beach or take a particularly pretty one home. Or they did, until they agreed to leave my world and erected the wall."

"What? Humans don't even rank as pets?" Harry jested, not sure he could really comprehend how anyone could see a human being like that.

"Some do, and those are usually the ones they bring home." Christan said bitterly. "But you don't have to worry. You are special, if nothing else then my reaction to you proves that."

"I am human."

"Maybe, maybe not. Am I? Human I mean? I was born human, but now?"

"I-" Harry didn't know what to say. He still didn't feel he knew enough about the fae to make the assessment. "You are Christian."

"I am not. I don't… at least I'm not the Christian I used to be. But then again, I don't think you are the Harry you used to be either."

"I suppose not." Harry agreed. The Harry he used to be ran into danger, described kisses as wet, and had unintentionally driven his wife mad. "But parts of me still are." He added. "Maybe even the most important bits." He was silent for a minute before his mind drifted to Barrons. "What about werewolves? Real?"

"Not as far as I know. Might have been some unlucky bastard that was cursed by the fae some hundred years ago. But I have never heard of any."

"And what do the fae look like? I mean I never asked because I assumed it would be the same as in our legends, but we have unicorns and you said you don't…"

"Perfect. The seelie are all beautiful, though not all look human. But they are all appealing, most humans will do anything to be close to them, to please them. At least at first. The unseelie, my clan hasn't had much contact with them, but they say that some are as beautiful as the seelie, and some are revolting. I guess it depends on how early an attempt they were for the King. But some say that the unseelie princes are even more beautiful than the seelie. That's why the king imprisoned them all. But that is just one of many legends."

Two days later, Harry still inside Christian, four humans and, assumingly, a fae stormed into the room, making Harry freeze mid-thrust. But while the fae looked amused, and aroused, the humans did not. At first they didn't speak, only stared in disbelief. But the disbelief didn't last long, and soon Harry and Christian were all but thorn apart and their old clothes thrown at them.

"Get dressed." One all but growled out, when neither Harry nor Christian moved to do so. "You two are getting out of here and breaking the hold this bloody spell has one you. Hurry up."

"How did you get here?" Harry asked, pulling on his cloths, surprising himself with his own disregard to the position they had found him. Especially considering that he didn't really need to guess just who these people were. The familiar similarity between the humans and Christian was obvious enough, despite his new more fae features. Though their were some similarities between Christian and the fae as well. Though it was difficult to describe how.

The fae could have been an archangel, painted in the most exquisite shades of chestnut, bronze, and gold one could possibly imagine, with a mane shimmering with strands of cinnamon gilded by sunlight, skin of tawny velvet, and eyes of liquid amber.

The Fae was unutterably beautiful, and while that was far from how Harry would describe Christian, there was an undeniable similarity between them. It wasn't that Christian wasn't beautiful, but his beauty was darker, he was also doubtlessly part human if this fae was anything to go by. While he had changed he wasn't otherworldly in the way this fae was. But it wasn't until Harry was considering jumping the fae and taking him to bed that he shook the thought away. He could evaluate the appearance of the fae when he was far away from the lust charm on the bedchamber.

"Let's get go." He said instead, unsure if anyone had actually answered his previous question. "I could need something to eat and drink."

"Yes, how have you survived without it?" The fae asked, his voice musical. "With Christian it is evident, but you… you have no fae blood."

"Could we do this when I don't want to rip your, Christian's and his relatives cloths off?" Harry asked, not looking at the fae. He didn't dare to.

"If you wish I would be happy to-" He began, his voice suddenly oozing of sexual desire.

"Leave him be." Christian all but growled, moving closer to Harry. Inserting himself between Harry and the fae. "Just get us out of here. Mac said you need me to contain the Sinar Dubh so that you can fix the walls, after that I never want to have anything to do with your kind."

"Nor I, you. You are an abomination, worse than the unseelie."

"Blame Mac and Barrons." He said dismissively, with a disregard Harry knew very well was false. "Just get us out of here."

"For MacKayla." The fae agreed. "And for my Queen."

"Who they saved." One of the other druids said from behind them. "Hurry up, the faster we get back the faster we can clean this mess up and go home."

**TBC…**

**Since there seem to be a surprising amount of people who hasn't actually read the fever series reading this story I thought I should clarify some things about that world, and I hope I succeeded in doing that in this chapter... I will do my best to explain things as I go ****along. If there is something unclear don't hesitate to ask! I think this story will be fine to read without having read the book series but well you know how it sometimes is...**


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